Precious
by lexxie r
Summary: One hundred fifty year old men; grunting thugs; love-struck war gods; bumbling sidekicks; fireflies...a Warrior Princess' job is never done


** Precious**

by Lexxie

***

DISCLAIMERS: I don't own any of the characters from XWP or HTLJ; those guys at Ren Pics do, bless their little hearts. No copyright infringement is intended. And I'm not getting any moola from this either, so nyaah.

VIOLENCE: A little, but nothing gory, so chill.

SEX: Again, nothing graphic. 

TIMELINE: Somewhere after _ Chakram_, but before _ Animal Attraction_ and the whole 'Divine Pregnancy Part Deux' thing. So Gab is in her pixie-haired sai phase and the whole Eve/Twilight bruhaha hasn't yet appeared. 

FEEDBACK: 'Twould be much appreciated. Send 'em all to ** mistiblu02@hotmail.com**.

***

_ To see the world in a grain of sand_

And heaven in a wild flower

To hold infinity in the palm of your hand

And eternity in an hour.

_ - Anonymous_

PROLOGUE

Mortality is a funny thing. 

Oh, sure, just the concept of mortality is enough to send pessimists all over the known world ranting and raving about the futility of human existence. "You are _ nothing_," they say. "Your time on earth is short, and insignificant. You were born to amuse the gods, to be a puppet in their grand play. And while you might be lucky enough to experience a few, trifle degrees of happiness during your wretched stint, all that will be taken away as soon as they grow tired of you. And then you will die. And as you step into Charon's boat, and float further and further away from that pointless carousel ride you called a 'life', you will realize that all of it was for _ nothing_. You will be buried and forgotten, and others will go on as if you never were."

And so on, and so forth.

But then, there are those who face their mortality with a grace and courage wrought from a deep understanding of the intricacies of the human heart. These are the ones who, knowing that their time is limited, choose to make the most of it, instead of bemoaning their impending deaths. 

These are the movers and the shakers, the ones who refuse to live and die meaninglessly. And in their determination to _ live_, they ensure their legacy, so that even after they die, a part of them lives on. 

These are the ones who become heroes and legends. Their stories become anthems for bards across the generations. Their courage can change the world.

Such was the Warrior Princess.

***

PART 1 - HISTORY LESSON 

Our story begins in an unremarkable tavern in a village called Ankuro (not that the name matters, or anything; it could be called Philadelphia, for all I care, but just humor me). It being 'happy hour' and all, the place was a tad crowded, and as a gangly, puppy-eyed man wearing a pasta strainer and holding three mugs of cider tried to make his way through the belching mass of humanity to a vacant table in the corner, he was accosted by a burly hulk of a man with skull tattoos peppering his arms.

"Hey, lookee here, boys," he slurred, his beer breath causing Joxer's nose hairs to curl. "A little runt warrior wannabe tryin' to play with the big boys." The man's comrades sitting at the table behind him grunted and belched their agreement.

Joxer gulped. "Actually, I — I'm, uh, just going to play through. So, uh...if you gentlemen don't mind —" He tried to edge around the rough group, careful not to spill any of the drinks he carried. Marlon, the brute in dire need of a breath mint, gave a derisive snort. Just as Joxer had completely cleared his circuit around the table, an unknowing patron behind him suddenly stood up and pushed his chair back, ramming right up against Joxer's bony behind and causing him to pitch forward...right on Marlon's lap. Cider splashed on the surly, greasy faces seated around the table, and Joxer saw his life flash before his eyes.

With a grunt, Marlon tossed Joxer roughly on the table and stood hulking over him, cracking his knuckles. "Why don't I show you what a _ real_ warrior can do?" he growled, cider dripping from his nose and chin. He poised his fist in the air, his buddies holding a squirming Joxer down, and just as he was about to deliver the blow...a tight grip caught his wrist.

"Why settle for cheap imitations when you can have the real thing?" a low, husky voice said from behind.

Incensed, Marlon spun around, and his nose was not-so-politely introduced to Xena's fist.

***

Enter the Warrior Princess, erstwhile Destroyer of Nations, but all-around good soul if you look deep enough.

See, Xena is a complicated character. Not long ago — a time historians have termed her 'Rage Period' — Xena was a rampaging warlord with a black heart and broken soul. Her army was the most feared of her time, and as she marched across the known world, kingdoms fell, bodies were decapitated, and Amazons were skewered on wayward tree branches. 

Girl had _ issues_. 

But as she plotted to conquer the world, she ran across that do-gooder demi-god Hercules. He's actually a nice guy, a little boring sometimes, but he's not bad, I suppose. In a nutshell, Xena tried to kill Hercules but then she tried to save a baby, and Hercules thought that was pretty cool of her, so one night they had a little peacemaking session under the stars, rolling around on the thistle (ouch), the whole shebang. Afterwards, they killed this man-eating dog together (I guess that's what they did before cigarettes were invented). The unabridged version of this romantic epic is available in parchmentback at Salmoneus' Nook, at the corner of Olypiad and Marathonia.   


Anyway, somwhere between the Herc-boffing and the dog-killing, Xena rediscovered her conscience. And the shame that surfaced along with it nearly broke the mighty Warrior Princess in half. To redeem herself (something she really doesn't hold much hope for, if you wanna know the truth), Xena resigned herself to a life of repentance, and while she knew it would be a hard road to walk, she was prepared to face her punishment alone.

And then, the great warrior-turned-penitent stumbled into a sleepy little town called Potadia (who names these places, anyway?), where the main attraction was watching the leaves change colors, and where a spunky young blonde dreamt of the excitement and adventure on which she felt she was doomed to miss out. 

The town was being terrorized by a group of miscreants who really aren't worth naming here. Their one ticket to fame, really, was that they had the honor of being spectacularly lambasted by our warrioress. And once the smoke cleared and the dust settled, the cherubic Gabrielle and the jaded Xena began a friendship that would last a lifetime. 

Supported by her best friend's unshakable faith in her, Xena fought her way out of the darkness that once threatened to devour her soul. In truth, it had been an arduous road, and while the last thing Xena wants is to flip out and go warlord-y again, sometimes the little devil manages to slip out.

Times like these, for example.

Because if you step on Xena's shoe, she'd likely let you off easy. If you insult her to her face, you might get a slap or two, but that's about it; sticks and stones, after all. If you touch her horse — well, that's pushing it, but she's been known to let even that go after a really good...er, bad, walloping. But beat up her friends — even her pointy-hatted, pasta-strainer-wearing friends...well, that's just stupid.

***

And so it was that Marlon barely had time to take in those icy blue eyes that were silently screaming bloody murder at him before he felt himself flying through the air and then violently colliding against the row of kegs behind the bartender's counter.

Amidst the stunned silence of the tavern, Xena slowly turned around and fixed her glower upon the inebriated brutes around the table, still holding Joxer down. Eyebrow arched (she'd perfected that, you know), she said in a throaty purr, "Would anyone else like to go for a ride?"

The men looked at each other uncertainly, and then back at the unconscious Marlon, slumped against the wall like a fallen hippo. Apparently they were a whole lot smarter than they looked (well, maybe not a _ whole_ lot) because they silently stepped away from the table. After collecting Marlon, they wove their way through the suddenly-sober throng and left the tavern. 

Xena sighed, and a pleased smirk emerged on her face. She noticed that everyone in the room was still holding their breath — the bartender was looking as blue as the summer sky, still stunned after being narrowly missed by an airborne Marlon. 

Xena waved her hand at the crowd. "Carry on." 

Immediately, the room swelled as everyone exhaled and the roar of jovial revelers once again permeated the atmosphere. In the corner, a rousing version of "Ninety-Nine Bottles of Mead on the Wall" started, in honor of the line of broken liquor bottles behind the bartender. 

Xena leaned over to Joxer, who was just getting up. "Are you okay?" she asked, her voice nearly drowned out by the drunken chorus.

"Sure, sure," he replied as he brushed himself off. "You know us warrior types. It takes a lot to bring Joxer the Mighty down."

Xena grinned. "Good," she said, and gave Joxer a friendly smack on the chest. Joxer waited until she had turned to look for a table before doubling over, as the 'pat' had nearly knocked the wind out of his thin body.

Once they were seated at a relatively quiet corner, Joxer asked his inevitable question. "Where's Gabrielle?"

Xena opened her mouth to answer, but was interrupted by another voice behind her. "Xena."

Gabrielle, bard and Amazon queen, sauntered to the table and sat down. "I've put the horses in the stables."

"Good."

"I could barely get a stall, the stables were so crowded. What, is it a town holiday, or something?"

"Nope, just a birthday," Xena answered, as she waved a waiter over. "Two ciders, and an ale for me, " she said.

"Xena," Gabrielle said disapprovingly. "Ale?"

"What?" the warrior retorted defensively. 

"You said last month, no more ale for you. And now —"

"I said no such thing."

"Yeah, you did! I was right there, and you told me —"

"Now, Gabrielle, why would I say something like that?"

Joxer cleared his throat. "Actually, Xena, your exact words were 'That's it, I'm layin' off the ale.' "

Xena shot him a glare, and Joxer gulped. "But then, what do I know, I mean....Is — um...is this table uneven to you?" And with that, he dove down in a studious examination of the wooden legs.

Xena returned her attention back to the bard. "You should've gotten it on paper."

"You promised," was the flat retort.

"I did not!"

"Do y'all need s'more time?" the bored waiter asked, tapping his quill on his pad of papyrus.

Warrior and bard exchanged glares across the table for a few moments before a set of blue eyes grudgingly rolled. "Fine. _ Three_ ciders," she said with a pointed glare at her friend who smiled triumphantly. 

As the waiter walked away, Gabrielle smiled. "You know I'm right. You just can't admit it without a fight."

"Sure, sure," came the good-natured grumble.

"Now, what's this about a birthday?"

Xena nodded to a stooped, white-haired man seated at the table in the middle of the tavern. "That's Diocles. He's turning one hundred and fifty today. He's the oldest person in Ankuro, and the whole town's come to celebrate."

"One hundred and fifty," Joxer marveled, as their drinks arrived. "Wonder how many plays he's seen for free?"

"Must be great to be able to live that long," Gabrielle mused. "Imagine the stories he could tell me."

Xena remained silent, while her mind laughed at the irony. She was barely out of her twenties, and already she's got stories that can make the most hardened sailor blush.

"Or free chariot rides...." Joxer continued to muse. 

"But, Xena," Gabrielle began, "that still doesn't explain why we're here. I mean, did you just want to attend a party, or what?"

"We didn't even bring presents," Joxer contributed. 

"Actually, Diocles himself sent me a pigeon a couple of days ago," Xena explained as she drank her cider. "He said something about thieving relatives after his inheritance. He's afraid someone's trying to kill him so they could collect."

"And he hired you to root out the bad guy and protect him," Gabrielle finished. 

"Well," Xena drawled between sips, "I am good with that sort of thing." (So modest and humble, our Xena is.)

"And what about our rooms?"

"We got three. Gabrielle, your room and mine flank Diocles' on both sides, and Joxer's is right across the hall from him."

"Ha! Perfect," Joxer declared. "You both know of my legendary alertness, even in the deepest slumber. No one is gonna get past me. I've got the senses of a jungle cat." Xena and Gabrielle exchanged glances as Joxer took a long sip of his cider.

Suddenly, the waiter appeared at his side. "Your bill," he announced directly into Joxer's ear. 

Surprised, he spluttered, and sprayed a mouthful of cider all over the front of the Amazon at his side. 

Gabrielle looked across the table in disbelief, the drink dripping down her bodice, while Xena smirked.

"Oh! Uh, Gabs, sorry! Wait, here...." Joxer stammered as he whipped out a hankie from somewhere in his faux leather pants (don't ask) and proceeded to wipe off the cider on Gabrielle's chest.

"No...Joxer, you don't have to...Joxer I'll do it — Joxer, watch it!" With an infuriated glare, Gabrielle snatched the hankie away from the wandering hands of the well-meaning dolt and wiped herself off, casting a baleful glance at the warrior, who was still trying not to smile (it just wouldn't work for her reputation, doncha know). 

Swallowing down her amusement, Xena merely said, "Ya know, this cider's pretty good, I gotta admit."

And in the background, a much off-key cacophony began around the center table. _ Happy birthday to you..._.

***

PART 2 - A NIGHT IN ANKURO

After blowing out his birthday candles (they'd nearly burned the place down, there were so many of them), Diocles had climbed the rickety tavern stairs to his room, his equally rickety body shaking with the effort. It had taken both Joxer and Gabrielle's help to get him safely upstairs without toppling over, as Xena (who was, after all, a woman of action) had gone ahead to their rooms to make sure there were no ridiculously bold goons hiding in their closets waiting to ambush them. 

"All clear," she had announced, and all had retired to their respective rooms. But besides Diocles (who had over a century of practice, anyway), no one slept. 

***

Xena sat on a rocking chair in her room, cradling something in her arms. From the back, it almost looked like she was nursing a baby, but all she was really doing was sharpening her sword. 

_ Up, scrape. Down, scrape. Up, scrape. Down, scrape_. The rhythmic sweeps of her polishing stone and the gentle rocking motion slowly drained the tension away from Xena. The sound soothed her, a lullaby to the hardened warrior. She happened to look out the window, and stopped.

Outside, against the dark cloak of the night, buzzed hundreds of fireflies. Their incandescent bodies glowed brightly like stars outside her window and zipped across her field of vision with enviable abandon. They dipped, shot up again, and swirled around each other like some divine tornado. It looked like some fantastic dreamscape, and for a moment, Xena closed her eyes and remembered a time long ago...

_ ...Lyceus was standing on the grassy hill just outside of Amphipolis, head tilted back and a wondrous smile on his face as he watched the fireflies dance in the air around him. "Come on, Xe, hurry up! They'll be gone soon."_

He heard steps behind him and turned to look at his sister, panting from her run. She held a glass jar in her hand. "Took me forever to find one," she breathed between gasps. "Wow," she said as she looked around her. "It's beautiful."

Lyceus snatched the jar away from her and tried to catch some of the whizzing points of light. Xena merely stared at the scene above and around her, watched as the glowing things buzzed joyously against the cobalt blue of the night sky. The light from their bodies reflected off her skin, and if anyone had seen her, they would have sworn that she was glowing. It was surreal...almost magical, and she laughed as she saw her brother hopping and leaping to capture some of the magic in the jar. 

Lifting her skirts, she twirled round and round, arms open, and she wanted to capture that moment forever, seal it in a jar, so it would never end...

...But it did end, for something can't be precious if there's never a chance one might lose it...

_ ...Xena stared at the jar sitting on her brother's dresser like a doctor evaluating a patient. The meek bugs sitting on the bottom of the glass seemed a far cry from the amazing beings of light she saw celebrating on the hilltop three days ago. _

"What's wrong with them, Xe?" Lyceus asked, and while he tried to sound merely curious, there was a touch of melancholy in his voice.

"They don't like being cooped up," she answered sagely. "They glow better when they're outside."

"But they glowed when I first got 'em. For a while."

"Yeah," she conceded. "But they glow longer when they're not in a jar."

"Oh."

She heard the thinly veiled tone of loss in her young brother's voice, and she hastily put her arm around his shoulders. "Don't worry Ly, they'll be back."

"Yeah?"

She nodded. "Uh-huh. And we won't try to catch 'em next time. We'll just watch. That way, they'll never die out...."

Xena opened her eyes and stared at the vibrantly glowing lights outside, but her thoughts were very far away. See, it pained her sometimes to remember that, despite the fact that she had literally walked through Hell alone, she was once just an innocent child. 

Just then, a funny, familiar tickling in her brain pulled her out of her reverie. She cocked her head, she sniffed the air, that infallible radar went on overdrive, and she looked at the wall, on the other side of which lay the sleeping Diocles. She could smell him — _ him_, not Diocles (and _ he_ smells _ really_ good).

Now what's he up to, her brain snarled, and she silently made her way out of her room and crept into Diocles'.

***

Meanwhile... 

Joxer the Mighty stood in front of his mirror, contemplating the sorry ditch that was his love life. 

See, the poor powder-puff is madly, hopelessly in love with our favorite Amazon queen. And though she doesn't care to admit it to herself (she's also Queen of Denial), she loves Joxer, too. So, in actuality, things should be a lot simpler between them, but they just _ refuse_ to make it easy on themselves. These warrior types.

Joxer couldn't understand her response — or lack thereof. After all, he did tell her on the last episode...er, I mean, their last _ meeting_, that he loved her. She could at least give him a clue about how she feels, instead of just leavin' him hangin'. (What?! They had slang in Ancient Greece too, you know.) 

_ Maybe it's just my delivery_, he mused. He stood up in all his pajama-ed glory in front of his mirror and practiced. 

"Gabrielle...I love you." (The direct approach.) 

"Gabby, I...um, I _ really_ love you." (The uncertain cutie approach.) 

"I'm in love with you, Gabrielle." (The sensitive romantic approach.)

"Oh, Gabby, I love you, please, please, _ please_ love me back!" (The I'm-so-desperate-I'd-crawl-on-fifty-miles-of-broken-glass-just-to-sweat-in-your-shadow approach.) 

Suddenly, something in his mirror stopped him cold. A head covered with a black hood stealthily peeked over the windowsill behind him. In the figure's hand, a mean-looking three-clawed hook thingy (look, I'm tired, okay?) caught the moonlight and gave off a wicked gleam.

Joxer had stopped breathing and the thought that he should maybe pick up his sword and fight completely fell to pieces in his mind when he saw that grappling hook (that's what you call it!). Suddenly, his legs seemed to have a mind of their own, and Joxer the Mighty shot out of his room like a bat out of Tartarus so he could hide behind Gabrielle.

The hooded figure had watched Joxer's terror in amused silence, and now let out a low chuckle. "Yep, it's definitely inbreeding." And with that, Autolycus, King of Thieves, threw his grappling hook into the room so it caught the foot of the bed, and pulled himself up.

***

Gabrielle had been been eyeballing a blank scroll before Joxer oh-so-politely burst in. She was seated at her bed wracking her little blonde head for a way to begin her new story and nothing seems to be working (dying seems to be an effective way to temporarily block out those bardly juices).

She chewed on the tip of her quill. "I sing of...no, no, no, too archaic. Um...Once upon a time...nope, too clichéd. Wait, how about...It was a dark and stormy night...oh, yeah right. It'll sound like a cheap horror scroll. Ugh!" (Know the feeling, bard.) Infuriated, she hurled the scroll with as much force as she could muster at the closed doorway...just as the door swung open and Joxer charged in like his butt was on fire.

"Gabrielle, quick, there's a guy — oof!"

The bard rolled her green eyes from her place on the bed and marched over the the fallen man. "Joxer," she began, "haven't you heard of knocking?"

"Well, excuse me for trying to warn you!" he retorted, rubbing his head. "Are you mad about something?" (There he goes, having another 'duh' moment.)

Gabrielle waved her hands in front of her face like she was trying to swat a fly. "Never mind. What do you want me to warn me about?"

"Oh!" And all his previous fright came rushing back. "He had a hood, and...and tall and bulky, and his hook thingy was like this —" and he flexed his fingers to look like claws, "— and he tried to come in but I knocked him unconscious and —"

Gabrielle, who until now had watched his ravings with a blank stare, interrupted. "Wait, wait...where is he now?"

"Probably still in my room."

Gabrielle grabbed her sais. "Okay, look, Joxer, you're going to stay with Diocles and guard him. Xena and I'll handle the guy. No one's offing the poor guy just for the money if we can help it!"

"Right!"

"You ready?"

"Yeah!"  


"Good, let's go."

In their eagerness, the duo both reached for the knob at the same time, and fueled as they were by their great mission, they ripped the knob right out of the woodwork (doncha just _ hate_ when that happens?)

In the ensuing moment of silence, Gabrielle looked at the brass knob in her hand, speechless (that doesn't happen often folks; you better write it down).

Joxer stared at it as well, before turning his gaze on the blonde. "Tsk, tsk, tsk," he tsked. "Look what you did."

*** 

Xena had crept into Diocles' room, silent except for the old man's snoring. She made sure to stay quiet; no point in waking the old codger up, no telling what it would do for his regularity.

At one point, she thought she heard a door slamming in the room next door — Gabrielle's — and then Joxer's voice. Then came a scuffle and a sound like they were trying to tear down that door. Xena smirked. _ About time,_ she thought. _ Though they could stand to be a little discreet._

Suddenly, the old man stirred, and stared at Xena with clouded eyes. "Corrina?"

Xena raised that eyebrow of hers in puzzlement, and looked behind her. "Um, no...Diocles, it's me. Xena. You sent for me to protect you, remember?"

The man shook his grey tinged head and murmured, "No...Corrina, don't go."

Xena stepped closer and said a little more forcefully, "No, not Corrina. _ Xena_. You hired me to protect you against your relatives. You sent me an express pigeon a couple of days ago."

Finally, Diocles closed his eyes and nodded. "Sorry. You just...you look like her. My wife." He sighed, and Xena moved closer. "She died long ago. Hmph," he snorted suddenly. "You probably think I'm lucky, along with the rest. Living to be so old...you think this is fun? To watch your body wilt away, to know that sometimes you see things that aren't there because your mind is so old it plays tricks on you? To watch as your relatives hover over you like vultures waiting for you to keel over? You think this is fun? You want a piece of this? Huh?"

The man was starting to get really into this, and as he clenched his white hands into two feeble fists, for a moment Xena thought he's going to pick a fight with her. "Uh...no, no. I'll just take your word for it."

It took a little while, but finally she got Diocles to calm down and soon, his eyes were once more closed and he was snoring. After a few moments, she looked at the shadows around her. 

She stopped her perusal of the room when she felt a chill pass through her. "Areees...." she growled softly. 

In a burst of blue-black glitter, a tall, strong, handsome, gorgeous, delicious..._ ahem_...um, the leather-clad god of war appeared (I think I need some ice water).

"Hey, Xena," he drawled. "Are you busy tonight?" he said with that divinely perfect smirk...(oh, oops, there I go again.)

"Ares," the Warrior Princess replied shortly. "Terrorizing old men? Oh, how the mighty have fallen," she said with mock sympathy. (Do you ever get the feeling that these two have a 'history'? Hmm...)

"Actually, you should be thanking me, Xena," the god replied as he slowly circled her. "I mean, here I am telling you about a raid Marlon's planning here in Ankuro in two days when I could be, oh, torturing some infidels."

Xena narrowed her eyes. "Marlon," she repeated.

"Yeah, Marlon. You know. That fat tub of lard you wiped the floor with today. Nice moves, by the way."

"Must be a new one. I haven't heard of him."

Ares nodded placatingly. "Yeah, well...dying tends to keep you out of the loop, I guess."

Xena shot him a look. "Look Ares, you've said your piece, now go."

He gave her an amused grin, which only served to annoy her further (and of course, that's why he did it; she's so _ cute_ when she's annoyed!). "What? No thank you?"

That's it. She gave a dry, humorless laugh. "You want me to thank you?! What for? You screw with my head for all these years, you play your games, and now, just because you do this one _ tiny_ thing, you want me to thank you? And for what? For being a manipulative, lying bastard —"

He listened, and his jaw clenched. He grabbed her by the arms and pulled her closer so she could feel his breath on her face as he said huskily, "You're no angel either, my dear." (Has anyone told him about the season opener?)

Xena's eyes went cold, and though she wanted desperately to pull away (why, I don't know), she stayed perfectly still and flatly said, "You didn't help us when we were being crucified."

Something in him fell when he heard the words, and while he didn't let her go, his touch was warmer, softer, and his voice swelled a little with regret. "It was out of my league. The Olypians couldn't touch you. I tried, Xena, I tried. You have to believe me." 

_ Please believe me_. 

Xena shook her head. _ This is not going to happen, this is not going to happen...._ Aloud she said softly, "I'm at fault too. I mean I thought you cared...I didn't remember that this was the god of war I was thinking of." (Oh, warrior, warrior, open your eyes!)

Ares' eyes flickered and he stepped even closer (ooohhhh...). "Liar," he breathed throatily.

He bent his head closer until he was centimeters away from her. He could smell her hair, feel her shivering under his hands, and he looked into her eyes, those bottomless pools of blue, and he wanted to drown....

She had looked up at him when he moved closer, saw her reflection in his deep brown eyes...and something else. _ This is not going to happen, this is not gonna happen...WHAT? You're gonna let it happen?! WHY? Are you out of your ever lovin' mind?!_

As she tilted her face toward his, that voice she thought she'd silenced spoke up.

_ Yes._

He saw her move closer, realized that she was going to let this happen, and — not for the first time where Xena is concerned — war was at war with itself. _ I love you, Xena...tell her you coward! Not now. Why not? If not now, when?_ _ Tell her. No...I'll just show her...._

Slowly, his lips descended until they were just a mere heartbeat away....

BANG!

"ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR EVER LOVIN' MIND?!?!"

***

Moments ago...

Autolycus emerged from Joxer's room. _ Joxer's here, now where's Xena? Gotta tell her about Marlon...._

As he stepped into the hall, he heard a terrific ruckus behind the door in front of him.

"Joxer," he recognized the bard's voice, though it was muffled, "harder! Harder!" One of the thief's eyebrows shot up (I think it's catchy).

"I'm shoving as hard as I can!" came Joxer's retort from behind the door. "And you're not helping by being absolutely still. _ You_ gotta push too, now come on!" A succession of grunts and thumps followed. _ Oh, Holy Hera...._ Autolycus' mind screamed (gee, I wonder what he thinks they're doing?).

His heart in his throat, he marched to the door and flung it open. Gabrielle and Joxer fell to the floor in front of him, flushed and breathing hard.

"Gods, Gabrielle!" Autolycus raved. "You're young yet!"

"What?" Gabrielle asked, a little stunned. "N-no, we were just trying to open the door —"

"Save it for the preacher, sister, where's Xena?" Autolycus demanded. 

The three stooges...er, _ friends_ marched to Xena's room and opened it, but found it empty.

"Where is she?" Joxer wondered aloud.

"Diocles," Gabrielle breathed. 

The three ran to Diocles' room and flung open the door with a bang only to find....

"ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR EVER LOVIN' MIND?" the bard roared when she saw the 'close call.' (I know she means well, but don't you just wanna slap her silly sometimes?) 

Behind Xena and Ares, Diocles had sat bolt upright when he heard the outburst, and his jaw hung open when he saw his 'wife' in the arms of that walking advertisement for sinfulness (down girl). "Corrina?" he wailed pitfully. "After all these years...."

"Who's he?" asked Autolycus from the doorway.

"And you thought _ we_ were doing something we shouldn't," Joxer snickered.

"Xena, what is he doing here?" Gabrielle ground out.

Ares stepped away from the warrior and said, glowering, "If you must know, we —"

"He was just leaving," Xena interrupted, moving toward the doorway, and away from him.

"What?" he demanded. "Just a second ago...." He trailed off when he saw the pained look on her face. He bowed his head for a moment, then with his face set, he walked over to her and tilted her chin so her eyes met his. "Because you want me to, I'll leave. But trust me, Xena," he murmured in her ear, "you can't run away from this forever." With that, he disappeared in a miasma of color.

"I don't need forever," she whispered to herself, so quiet that no one heard.

***

PART 3 - PLANS OF ACTION

Walls shook, tapestries quivered, statues quaked on their pedestals as Ares, god of war, let out a primal yell heavy with frustration. "Friggenbardsandtheirdopeypastastrainerwearingboyfriendsrrrrgggghhhh!"

"Hey bro!" an annoyingly chirpy voice greeted, and in an explosion of pink flower petals (do these gods know how to make an entrance, or what?), Aphrodite, goddess of love, appeared, wearing a diaphanous pink gown. 

Ares let out an inward groan. He did _ not_ need this. 

The blonde goddess took in the various pieces of debris littering the temple floor, and then stared at Ares who was darkly glowering at her. "Renovating?"

"Aphrodite," Ares began in a deep rumble, "don't you have to go tease Discord about her back hair, or something?"

"Whoa!" Aphrodite placed her hands on her hips and fixed Ares with a look of her own. "What crawled up your ass and died _ this_ fine evening, babe?"

Her brother took a deep breath. "Go. Away."

Aphrodite stepped closer to the stony god and peered up at him through her lashes. Suddenly, an understanding smile crossed her face. "Ohhh."

Ares cocked an eyebrow at her (it's definitely contagious). "Oh what?"

"I mean, oh, it's that Xena again, huh?" She shook her head, blonde curls bobbing. "Sweetie, you should know better by now. I've always been able to read you like a scroll." She snapped her fingers and a stool padded with a pink plush pillow appeared by her side. Daintily she planted herself on it. She took Ares' hand in her smaller one and covered it with the other, patting it like a mother comforting a fallen child. "Now, tell your sister 'Dite what's bugging my poor studmuffin."

Until now, Ares had watched her shenanigans with silent rage. But now....

He shoved his face up to hers and said, quietly, "No." And he turned his back on her.

Now, believe what you will about blondes in general and Aphrodite in particular, but whoever the woman, you never, _ ever_ turn your back on her before she's done talking. It's just not good for your health. Especially when said woman is a spitfire of a goddess who can turn you into a flower pot in the blink of an eye. 

Eyes sparking with a fiesty fire, Aphrodite cocked her finger and just as Ares was about to sit his nice god butt back on his throne, she turned the thing into a crate of squealing pink bunnies.

Ares whirled, muscles stiff with rage, but before he could say or do anything, Aphrodite was off like a speeding chariot. 

"Fine, Mr. Pretty-Boy-Tough-Guy," she sniffed. (She pegged him pretty well, I gotta say.) "If you just wanna sit there in your selfish little funk, well that's just great. But if you don't wanna talk, you could at least listen to what I have to say. If not for me...then for your precious Xena." The goddess was about as angry as she had ever been, but she uttered that last part softly, treating with reverence the name of her brother's one weakness.

The name had the expected effect, and Ares' features relaxed slightly. Closing his eyes, he tilted his head back and inhaled deeply. "What?" muttered defeatedly.

"Tell her," she instructed simply, sincerely. "'Cuz even though you may have forever, she doesn't. And one of these days...you're gonna lose her, Bro." And with a sad shimmer of light, she disappeared. 

*** 

After that unfortunate scene in Diocles' room (friggen bards indeed), Xena slapped her famous 'pinch' on the old man to make him go back to sleep (poor soul didn't even know what hit him), and then herded her posse out of his room and into hers.

Now Autolycus, Joxer and Gabrielle sat meekly in front of her with their heads bowed, while Xena stood in front of them with a blank expression, arms crossed. 

"So," she began shortly. "Let's hear it." 

The three looked at each other, each silently begging the other to do the talking. Presently, Joxer elbowed Gabrielle in the ribs. "Go on, Gabs," he whispered to her. "This is your job. Go do your...bardic thing."

"What?"

"Moron's right," Autolycus hissed from her other side. "C'mon...she won't kill _ you_. We'll just sit here and...back you up."

The blonde frowned at him. "Yeah, I'm sure you will." Then she stood, straightened her skirt, faced the stoic warrior, and began the odd little account. "Okay, Xena...well, it all started when I got into my room and I was trying to write down that story of that time when...you know...you lost your dark side and became a role model for Hestians everywhere, and Kal was after you..." 

"...and then Autolycus finally opened the door for us, and we ran to your room 'cuz we thought that guy Joxer saw was gonna kill Diocles, but you weren't there, so we went to Diocles, and we saw you and Ares, and you know the rest, and...um, that's about it. Right guys?" And the bard (who hasn't taken a single breath since she first started talking, if you can believe it) turned around to the two men seated behind her.

Joxer was snoring, and Autolycus' eyes were glazed over, his attention absently rooted somewhere on the ceiling.

The bard narrowed her eyes. "Hey!"

At the sharpness of her voice, Autolycus snapped out of his trance. "Huh — oh, uh...yeah! Yeah, that's it. Nice going, bard."

Xena shifted her stony gaze from the flustered thief to the still-sleeping Joxer. "Joxer. Joxer!"

The man simply rolled over, mumbling incoherently, and resumed his slumber.

Xena rolled her eyes, and then fixed her attention on Autolycus. "So...the guy in Joxer's room was you." 

"Right."

"And you are here...why?"

"To tell you about this guy Marlon. I ran into him and his groupies on the road, and he really has it in for you, Xena. I overheard him say he's gonna raid this town for you humiliating him."

"Shooore, he did," Gabrielle said with a skeptical gleam in her eye. "And I suppose the fact that you snuck in here in the middle of the night has nothing to do with the plethora of birthday presents sitting unguarded downstairs."

"Of course not!" But off Xena's look, he hastily added, "Well, as long as I'm here, I might just...you know...go shopping or something like that, but I am telling the truth about Marlon!"

"And why should we believe you?" countered the bard.

"Because Ares told me the same thing," Xena said flatly. _ Among other things_, she added silently.

Gabrielle stared at her in disbelief (keep lookin' like that, Gabs, and your face will get frozen that way). "And we all know how honest _ he_ is!"

Xena began warningly, "Gabrieellle...."

"Oh, come on, Xena!" she exploded. "This is just another one of his traps to use you! And you're falling for it...you were going to kiss him! And while a hundred and fifty year old man slept not five feet away. That's kinky even for you!" (Oh, she is _ so_ lucky they're best buds, or she'd be one with the table right about now.) 

"Gabrielle, I was _ not_ falling for anything. And secondly, if I wanted to make-out with him, I would've done it in the privacy of my own room wearing nothing but a skimpy little nightie."

At this, Autolycus sidled up to the Warrior Princess and quietly asked, "Just for the sake of being thorough...what color would your nightie be?" Xena shot him a glare, and quickly he amended, "Or, you don't have to tell me...I'll just use my imagination." 

"Anyway, that doesn't matter," she firmly said. "Both their stories make sense, and if Ares was telling the truth —" at this she held up a hand to stop Gabrielle's comment, "— that means we have two days, tops, to prepare the villagers for the raid _ and_ find the person who's trying to kill Diocles."

After a moment of chewing this over, Gabrielle sighed. "Okay, fine. What's your plan?"

Xena smiled at her friend, glad that she wasn't going to press the 'Ares' issue (even though every X/A shipper in the known world wants her to). 

"Tomorrow, you," at this, she pointed to Autolycus, "are gonna stay in here and keep an eye on Diocles."

"What?" the thief exclaimed. "I am the King of Thieves, Master of Stealth, and you want me to baby-sit some guy that's older than dirt?"

If looks could kill, Autolycus would be sitting in Hades' parlor having some tea and baklava right about now. Autolycus gulped, and squeaked in a subtly higher voice, "Sure...I can do that." 

Xena smiled, and the Amazon beside her smirked. "Gabrielle, you and Joxer are going to inform the town magistrates about Marlon. Tell them to send as many able-bodied men to the town's gates, and set up a hospice somewhere...just in case. Meanwhile, I'll go around and interrogate any of Diocles' relatives."

Gabrielle nodded, taking this in, but later asked, "But...so, we're just gonna wait for Marlon and his goons to attack?" 

"No, once everything is set up, Autolycus and I'll infiltrate their camp, and we'll give 'em something to keep them busy for...a while."

Gabrielle frowned in puzzlement. "What are you going to give them?"

Xena smiled, a wicked curl to her lips, and those in the room (those that were awake) shivered, for they saw the Warrior Princess of old, the evil Destroyer of Nations who would have scorched the earth barren if it suited her purposes, and they knew that Marlon and his cronies wouldn't have a chance against whatever Xena had planned for them.

In a voice filled with malicious glee, Xena said, "Joxer's radish stew." (Ooooh, she's _ evil_.)

Just as quickly, Xena switched to a lighter note and said, "Okay, now everyone get some sleep. Tomorrow's gonna be a busy day. Gabrielle, get Joxer outta here, will you? He's drooling on my bed." 

***

Autolycus stared despondently at Diocles, still in his bed, still in a deep sleep. He had awakened early this morning to find that Gabrielle, Joxer and Xena had all left on their respective assignments, and a note on his dresser written in Xena's precise script:

_ Autolycus —_

Just keep Diocles happy, and if he's still sleeping, don't wake him. Make sure no one else goes near him. And if I find that you've been stuffing things in your pants that aren't yours, and therefore, don't belong there...well, let's just say that I've got a thumbscrew with your name written all over it.

Oh, and...have a nice day!

Xena. 

(Leave it to our warrioress to be so concise.)

The disgruntled thief muttered a few choice curses and started eating some of the fruit next to the old man's dresser. He shrugged to himself. _ Well, maybe the day won't be that boring. He'll wake up soon and then I'll have someone to talk to_. (Even thieves get lonely, you know.) _ Until then...._ He picked up an apple and began to carefully peel it. 

***

A little later that morning...

Joxer stood in front of the vegetable vendor's stall, one hand holding a radish, the other holding a shopping list consisting of the ingredients he would need for his famous (or infamous) radish stew. 

Initially, he and Gabrielle had set off on their mission together, something for which he had secretly hoped. See, in all honesty, Joxer really didn't care if Gabrielle smacked him, pinched him, insulted him, and punched him every chance she got. He wore his bruises like badges of honor, and while it hurt like Hades sometimes (that little blonde Q-tip packs a mean left jab), he would accept them wholeheartedly if it meant being with her. Which is really sweet (in a completely pathetic, lost-puppy-dog kinda way). 

But this morning, Gabrielle told him that there was no point in tagging along with each other. She'll talk to the magistrates and round up all the town's healers for the hospice, she said. Meanwhile, he can go gather all his ingredients and then cook his radish stew. That way they'd accomplish both assignments in half the time. Reluctantly, Joxer agreed, not really wanting to insult the bard's logic. 

Now, as he made his way back to the tavern/inn armed with his purchases, he passed by a magnificently decorated temple with a lawn full of pink roses. With nothing better to do (after all, they wouldn't need the stew until tomorrow, and it just wouldn't do to let it sit and spoil in the interim, you know?), he walked up the temple stairs. 

Inside, he heard angry voices, and as he entered the temple room, he saw two young men, staring defiantly at each other. He guessed they were brothers (which wasn't really a monumental leap of logic, since they both looked exactly alike, being identical twins and all, but let's all be proud of our Jox, shall we?), and looked to be in the middle of a nasty quarrel.

"You're wrong!" shouted one. "She's _ my_ girl!"

"_ My_ girl!" 

"Nothing you can say can take me away from my girl!" 

Joxer shook his head and retreated back to the door. _ Some other time,_ he thought. 

Just then, a burst of pink appeared behind him, and there stood Aphrodite, effectively cutting off his escape. "If not now, then when, cutie?" she asked him playfully.

For a moment, Joxer lost his ability to communicate, and finally managed to stammer, "Oh...uh, hi, Aphrodite — I was, um, just...uh —"

The goddess looked at him with an amused twinkle in her sparkling eyes. She waved a hand in front of him to stop. "Just like a guy to make a girl wait forever," she said with a roll of her eyes. "Anyway, I _ am_ a goddess, no? I already know what you're here for."

"Um...you do?"

"Uh-huh. You're here 'cuz blondie's totally ignoring you and you need some advice."

Joxer sighed. "Yeah, I guess. See, it's not like she doesn't know. I mean, during the last episode...er, I mean, our last _ meeting_, I told her how I felt, and still she's acting like nothing's changed."

"That's because you're not following up on it," Aphrodite chided. "Tell her again, and then ask _ her_ how _ she_ feels."

"But Xena said no strings —"

Aphrodite laughed gaily. "Oh puh-lease!" she squealed. "You asked tall, dark and deadly for advice on your love life? Why? I mean, look at this mess between her and Ar!"  


Joxer looked confused. "Her and Ares? What do they have to do with this?"

The blonde goddess shook her head. "Oh, you are totally clueless aren't you? Whatever...just take my advice, hon. Have some cajones and make your move before its too late."

"Yeah, I might," he said hesitantly. "But not now...things are too hectic now —"

"Why not now?" she demanded prissily.

"Well, there's this whole thing with Marlon and Diocles," Joxer meekly explained.

"Ugh!" she interrupted. "What is it with you men! You're always putting it off for tomorrow, or the next day, or the day after that! It's —" She suddenly broke off when she saw the bag of groceries in the stunned Joxer's arms. "Ooh, an offering!" she exclaimed. "Wha'd ya get me?"

"Uh...n-no, it's for my stew," Joxer stammered, but it was too late. 

Aphrodite held a wilted cabbage in front of her at arms length, her nose wrinkled in puzzlement. "You got me...leafy greens?"

"Uh...."

Suddenly, the temple door burst open, and Joxer turned to see Autolycus striding in. He heard a dull squelch and when he looked, the cabbage was rolling on the floor, but the goddess of love was gone.

"Joxer, what are you doing?" the thief demanded, grabbing Joxer's arm and pulling him out to the street. "This is no time to be mooning about your love life." 

"Wait, wait...what are _ you_ doing here? You're supposed to be keeping the old man company."

"Eh, I was going crazy with cabin fever up there," he replied dismissively. "Gabrielle took over for me when she got back, and she sent me to find you. And as for gramps, he won't care, he's still snoozing. We've gotta get back there before Xena finds out you've been screwing around and decides to whip out her thumbscrew."

"Huh?" 

"Nevermind."

***

At the same time...

Gabrielle propped her aching feet on the low table at the foot of Diocles' bed. She was grateful that Autolycus had so gallantly volunteered to go find Joxer so she could rest her poor puppies. After a whole morning of running after city officials, security officials, healers, and the like, her feet were both as sore as they've ever been. She just hoped that Marlon didn't plan on attacking until tomorrow, or she'd never be able to stand up. 

Gabrielle let her eyes wander over the room, and the silence struck her. _ Wow,_ she marveled. _ It's really...quiet in here._

She sighed and picked out a plum from the basket of fruit next to the bed. 

After a few minutes of stuffing herself (small person, big appetite; must be a variant of the Napoleon complex), the silence in the room began to get to the bard, who by nature, was a chatty person. She looked at the man on the bed. _ He could at least snore,_ she thought. _ At least it won't be as quiet as a tomb in here._

She impatiently drummed her fingers on her knee. She twiddled her thumbs. She told herself stories. She memorized the ceiling. And finally...she snapped. 

"I NEED TO TALK!" she yelled. 

She strode over to Diocles and sat beside him on the bed. _ He's had enough sleep,_ she decided. But as she gently pulled the covers away from him to wake him up, she noticed something.

His lips were blue.

Her mind reeled. _ Ooohhh...this is bad_.

Breathing quickly, she gently slapped the man's clammy cheeks. No response. (We need 3000 EM's of fluroxide, stat! Oh, wait...wrong show.) In a panic, she climbed on top of the still form and shook his shoulders, calling his name, but Diocles did not stir. With shaky fingers, she felt for a pulse on his neck. 

Stunned, Gabrielle could only say one thing.

"Uh-oh." (What a way with words.) 

***

PART 4 - DEATH & DIARRHEA

During Gabrielle's little...um, _ ordeal_, upstairs, Xena was stewing in a pot of bad attitude downstairs.

Our Warrior Princess had entered the tavern with a scowl on her face and giving off some seriously mean stay-away-from-me vibes (much worse than the ones she normally gives off). 

This is not a happy Warrior Princess.

After an entire morning of digging up old birth-death records, interviewing midwives, and generally being as cranky as ever, she found just one thing.

Diocles had no living relatives left. None, nil, nada, nyet. Which means that the whole oh-please-help-me-my-evil-relatives-are-trying-to-make-me-kick-the-bucket-accidentally-on-purpose routine was just the product of some geriatric's overactive imagination. You can't be killed by people who have already floated up to that great tavern in the sky (unless you're a certain evil Amazon shamaness, but that's a completely different story altogether).

She marched up to the counter, giving the evil eye to anyone who dared approach her, and barked, "Ale!" She got a little wicked gleam in her eyes, knowing that Gabrielle wasn't there to stop her this time, but in a second, the scowl returned to her sculpted features. She felt like she was just played for a fool. And Xena does not like being played for a fool. (Just ask Caesar when you see him...oh, that's right, he's dead. Well, my point exactly.) 

But something in her softened when she recalled a conversation she had with one old lady this morning. She was Diocles' neighbor of eighty years, and something that she said made Xena stop and remember...

_ "...he used to have so much fun before his mind went," the lady said sadly. "But as he got older...he just got scared. He was afraid of waking up one morning, and not being able to stand up. And he hated the state his body was in, even though I told him that it was a part of getting old. You get liver spots, your hair falls out...it happens to the best of us. But he never listened. _

"He said once when that when he was younger, he thought he was immortal, like he had all the time in the world. Indestructible...that he would live forever. And now, forever's catching up to him — and he's got nothin' to show for it. And when the town decided to give him that birthday party...well, he thought it was a joke. Only reason he went was for the free booze."

She sighed, and Xena saw her get a faraway look in her eyes.

"Do you ever just want to trap time in a bottle? To stay happy and innocent for all eternity? Well...that was Diocles. He told me that all the time. If someone gave him a handful of ambrosia, he said, he would gobble it up in a second."

She shook her head and looked at Xena. "I don't know about you, young lady, but I don't think I'd do it. Life's too precious for that, I think. More meaningful. Nope," she sighed as she stared at her garden, "I don't need an eternity. Just give me my roses and my dandelions, and I'm happy. Don't you agree?" 

And Xena smiled, the wistful, knowing smile of one who has been _ forced to understand the ugly in order to see the beautiful. "Completely...."_

Xena shook her head, downed her ale in one gulp, and pushed her chair back. Time to straighten things out with Diocles, and then she'll be able to focus completely on Marlon — not that she was worried; she'd seen Joxer's radish stew take down entire armies. A dozen overgrown meatheads should be a piece of cake. 

She turned, and what she saw caused one eyebrow to ominously creep up her forehead in a manner that just screamed, "Ooohh, boy, you gonna die."

Autolycus and Joxer muscled their way through the tavern, but when they saw Xena and how she looked about ready to scalp them both, they both made a beeline for the door as if their lives depended on it (and knowing how Xena is, they probably did).

But Xena was ready for them, and in a flash, she had hooked her arms through theirs. Ignoring the stares of the lunchtime patrons, Xena whirled the both of them around so they faced her. 

"You," she began, shoving a finger in front of Joxer, "should be with Gabrielle, and you," the finger whirled to Autolycus, "should be with Diocles."

"Gabrielle's watching Diocles," Autolycus said quickly.

"She told me to get the ingredients," added Joxer.

"And I had to find Dufus here."

"We were just trying to save time."

"Would you at least give me a kiss before you kill me?"

Xena's eyes bounced from one flustered man to the other, like a spectator following the path of a tennis ball. Finally she'd had enough of this nonsense, and shook her head.

"All right, all right, forget I asked." She led the way to the stairs. "Anyway, I'm sure Gabrielle's taking good care of Diocles," she said as they reached the second floor. (Boy, is she in for a surprise.) 

With strong, sure strides, Xena made her way to Diocles' door followed by the two men and reached for the knob and pushed the door open. She hasn't told them yet about the 'Diocles Situation,' but she'll be sure to —

Xena had to blink to make sure she wasn't hallucinating. Behind her, Autolycus let out a strangled whoosh of air. 

In the bed lay Diocles. On top of him, straddling his torso, was Gabrielle. And her hands were wrapped around his throat. 

The Amazon Queen looked up at the three figures in the doorway, frozen like a deer caught in the headlights (of course, they didn't have headlights back then, but just go with it). "Uh...hi."

"Gabrielle," Xena began slowly as she cautiously stepped into the room. "What _ are_ you doing?"

"Are you trying to strangle him?" Joxer asked in disbelief from the doorway.

"Xena, I think he's dead," replied the bard, ignoring Joxer, as she scrambled off the body.

"You killed him?" exclaimed Autolycus. "We're supposed to be the ones keeping him alive, for cryin' out loud! Well, there goes our reward!"

"I did not kill him!" the bard replied indignantly. "I was taking his pulse when you walked in. I was going to talk to him and when I tried to wake him up...well, he didn't."

"Gabrielle," Xena spoke up from the side of the bed, where she was intently studying the body. "How long were you watching him?"

The bard shrugged. "An hour, about."

"And before that?"

"I watched him for most of the morning," Autolycus answered. "It's not like you gave me a choice, or anything," he grumbled. 

"Aha!" Joxer exclaimed making the two jump. "That means that he might have died under _ your_ care!"

"Oh, aha yourself," the thief retorted. "Not once did I touch the guy while I was here. I was under strict orders from the surly ex-warlord over there not to try anything."

"Or you could've been so busy stealing everything in sight that you didn't notice him at all," Gabrielle suggested hotly.

"Me? What about you? You know, you might've noticed something was wrong when he was turning an unnatural shade of blue, but nooo...you were probably off spinning another tale —"

"That's enough." Xena looked at the squabbling trio from her place at Diocles' side. "He didn't die this morning...he's too stiff, skin's too clammy. It was probably last night, after we left his room and he fell back to sleep."

"Hmm. I can see it all now," Joxer began, sounding for all the world like a pre-Mycenean Columbo. "Someone was lurking outside the old man's window, and waited for all of us to leave the room. Then, when the coast was clear, BAM!" Gabrielle and Autolycus jumped. "He sneaks in, holding a small dart laced with a deadly hybrid form of hensbane, pricks the old man, and leaves out the window, leaving no one the wiser."

Xena pursed her lips. "That's a good theory, Joxer," she said.

"Oh?" he said, looking at the others smugly. 

"But completely wrong." 

"Oh."

"What do you mean, Xena?" Gabrielle asked.

She took a deep breath. "Diocles was leading us on a wild goose chase, sorry to say. There are no thieving relatives. They were just the product of his aging imagination."

"All right, I buy that," Autolycus nodded. "So how'd he die?"

Xena looked back down at Diocles. His face was a frozen mask of peace. "He was a hundred and fifty years old, Autolycus. His body just had to let go." She thought back to what the old lady had said. She murmured, "Don't feel too bad for him. He got his time." _ And now he'll have his eternity_. 

Gabrielle broke the silence. "I'll go get someone to...um...pick him up."

Xena nodded absently and pulled Diocles' blanket up and over his head.

***

Later that evening, a thief, a bard, a fool and a warrior sat down to dinner and discussed tomorrow's agenda.

"Joxer, is your stew ready?" Xena asked as she sipped her cider (Gabrielle ordered the drinks this time).

The man nodded. "Yup, the pot's in the kitchen. The chefs are having a field day with it. It came out quite well, if I do say so myself. "

"That's only one person's opinion," Gabrielle muttered under her breath.

"Xena, what is the plan for tomorrow, exactly?" Autolycus asked.

"Simple. You take me to their camp just as they're about to have breakfast, we switch their pot of food with Joxer's pot of stew, and we watch the fireworks. And if somehow they happen to have a natural immunity to the stuff and decide to attack anyway, they'll probably be so weakened that the guards Gabrielle had posted at the town's gates should have no problem."

"And the town is saved, all thanks to me and my radishes," Joxer finished with a flourish.

"Well, it's a novel idea, anyway," Gabrielle said. "Cook to kill."

"Speaking of kill," began the thief. "Where's Diocles?"

The bard answered, "Town graveyard. No one even attended the ceremony." She shook her head. "At least he's off to newer and greener pastures."

There was silence for a while, then Xena stood up. "Look, we'd better get some sleep. We have to be up early tomorrow." 

The others nodded and wearily trudged up to their rooms.

***

That night...

A tall, dark figure stood over a slumbering Xena. 

She breathed softly, a strand of black hair over her nose rising and falling in time with her breaths. She was curled up in her bed, the blanket bundled around her form to keep the chill away.

Ares studied her sleep-softened face, noted how the sculpted angles of her features seemed gentler and younger in her slumber, how she clutched the blanket to her body like a child. He focused on her closed eyes, and wondered what horrific memories followed her in her sleep, or if she dreamed instead of a life that knew no pain.

With a gentleness that had once seemed alien to him, he softly brushed the hair from her face. He sighed, and an expression of regret made its way to his immortal eyes.

_ I have wronged you,_ he thought. _ I have manipulated and deceived you. I treated you like a common mortal, because that was the only way I could reach you. And while that is no excuse, for a long time...that was my only option. _

But then you died. Not like before, when all it took was a small swallow of ambrosia to revive you. I actually felt your soul slip away from me, from this realm, and I could do nothing about it. You died...and the heart that I never even _ knew existed inside of me broke, Xena. I mourned you — War mourned! _

I was a fool, I realize that now. All those years of tricking you, forcing you, when we could have had something more meaningful. In my stupidity, I didn't realize how fleeting it all was. And all those years of wasted opportunities...it pains me to think about them now. You are mighty among the mortals, my dear, but you are still that — a mortal. And though I may have forever, I neglected to realize that you didn't. 

By Zeus, what have you done to me? I have known you in the glory of battle, in the fury of your anger, but it isn't enough for me anymore. Your love...that's all I want now. I would give up eternity for you, you know that? _ If I could feel, just for a single moment, that you could love me in return...I'd give it all up._

_ I can go on without you, Xena...but I wouldn't want to. And I have been stupid for too long, and waited too long...too long for an old fool like me._

Slowly he bent over her, and brushed his lips against hers, a touch as soft as the light tinkle of a child's laughter....

Then he was gone. 

***

Morning found Xena and Autolycus braving the tall shrubbery that surrounded Marlon's camp. As Xena peeked from behind a tree to observe the thugs they had come to eviscerate, Autolycus clumsily lumbered behind her, a heavy black pot in his hands. 

"Gods," he wheezed as he set the pot of stew down on the ground and waited for Xena's signal. "This stuff is absolutely _ foul_! What in Gaia's name did Joxer put in this? The smell's making my nose bleed."

"Ssshh!" Xena hissed. "Look...I think they're going to go do their morning warm-ups. You'd better go switch the pots now, while they're not looking."

Autolycs nodded without thinking. "Yeah, I should go — wait, what? Why me?" he hoarsely demanded.

Xena glared pointedly at him. "Because you're the King of Thieves, Master of Stealth. Because this is right up your alley, and because I'm gonna dunk your head in that stew if you don't do as I say." (Just goes to show you that waking up in the morning does not make you a morning person.)

Autolycus looked like he was going to protest, then decided against it. "You sooo owe me," he grumbled. 

Trying to be as stealthy as possible while carrying a pot filled with a culinary disaster, Autolycus cautiously approached the spit in the middle of the camp, upon which hung another pot of some gravy-looking stuff. Nimbly, he switched pots, and then hauled both himself and the purloined pot out of there.

He took a moment to catch his breath, then said, "So? Mission accomplished, or do you have some other life-threatening situation you wanna force me into?"

Xena smirked, and shook her head. "Ditch that pot, and let's get outta here. This place is gonna _ reek_ any minute now."

Autolycus shook his head as he and Xena snuck away from the camp. "You are a wicked, wicked woman, Xena."

*** 

After a half-hour of mock sword fighting, Marlon and Company returned to their camp dirty, hungry, and sweating like the greasy behemoths they truly are.

"Nothin' like a good breakfast to prepare for a good raid, eh boys?" he asked jovially.

He was answered by barbaric-sounding grunts (some guys just have problems communicating). 

One by one, the men spooned stew into their mouths. In no time, the whole pot was empty, and they lay on their backs contentedly...for a while. 

Burly thug #1: I don't feel so good.

Burly thug #2: Me neither...my stomach feels funny.

Burly thug #1: I think I — ummghgh, _ prrraaaaggghhtt_.

Marlon: (groaning) The stew..._ prrraaaaggghhtt_.

All: _ PRRRAAAAGGGHHTT_.

Birds: _ Tweet, tweet_ — ugh, what is that noxious odor that is threatening to choke us all? 

And as this unholy chorus swells, we fade to....

***

The village.

Xena forced a smile on her face as one of Ankuro's magistrates jubilantly pumped her hand in gratitude. "Thanks so much Xena for taking care of Marlon for us."

Xena shook her head. "It was really no problem."

"Oh, but the villagers want to honor your bravery with a reward!"

"A reward, eh?" Autolycus interrupted. "Well, since you offered —" he broke off when he saw the look Xena was giving him. "Well...never mind, your gratitude is all the reward we need," he mumbled dejectedly.

"Gee, Autolycus, you sound like you really mean it," Gabrielle said sarcastically, holding in one hand the reins of her horse.

"I'm the one that deserves the reward anyway," Joxer piped up as he straightened out his pasta strainer. "Who was the one who cooked the stew that put them out of commission? Was it Autolycus? Nooo. Was it Gabrielle? Nooo...." 

Meanwhile, Xena had led Argo out of the village gates and away from the squabbles behind her. Sensing a tingle in the air, she dismounted, and purred, "Yesss?"

In a flash, Ares appeared in front of her in all his leathered glory (be still, my heart). He smirked, and shook his head. "Ya know, you never cease to amaze me, Xena. Defeat by radish stew? That's one for the history books."

Xena quirked a corner of her mouth and said, complete with arched eyebrow, "Well, I aim to please."

"Hmm." Ares nodded. 

"I do have a question for you, though." At Ares's look, she asked, "Why'd you tell me about Marlon, anyway? I probably would've found out eventually, and like you said, you had other things you could've been doing, so...why?"

Ares smiled, amused. "Maybe...I just wanted an excuse to see you? I've missed you, Xena," he said sincerely.

Xena's eyes narrowed, though inside her heart warmed. _ Why do I want to believe him so much?_ Aloud, she shook her head slightly. "It's never that simple with you, Ares."

_ You have no idea, Princess,_ he thought wryly to himself. Then he smiled, a boyish, honest smile that, impossibly, quelled the darkness that hung perpetually around him, and Xena felt something stir inside her chest. He lifted her hand to his lips, pleased that she allowed the action, and brushed his lips over her knuckle. "It's never simple with you, Xena." He straightened, gave her a final wink, and said, "I'll be seeing you." And as suddenly as he had come, he disappeared in a flash of light.

Xena stared at the space he had been and closed her eyes. For a moment, she allowed herself to indulge in thoughts that she had once vowed to never rekindle. When she opened her eyes again, Gabrielle was beside her, green eyes showing her concern.  


"Hey. You okay?" she asked softly.

The Warrior Princess smiled back at her friend. "Let's go." And she led the group back on the trail. 

***

EPILOGUE

And this is where our story draws to a close. For some, this tale may have struck you as silly and irrelevant, but hopefully there are those who saw the message in spite of the neurotic ramblings. For there _ is_ a message, and a reason, in the trials of those like our Warrior Princess. A message made more precious by its fleeting nature. Lucky are those who find it, for they have made their time on earth worthwhile, short as it is.

And what of our Warrior Princess, who has only begun to live anew? Well, let's take a look, shall we?

***

Xena lay on her bedroll, staring at the sparkling splendor of the stars above while the other three slept a few paces away.

She thought back to what Ares had told her as they left Ankuro. He was holding something back, she knew it, and while she didn't dare hope that it was something she might like...well, she wanted him to tell her anyway.

She knew he'd get around to it eventually — he always does. _ But he'd better do it soon,_ she thought wryly. _ I'm not getting any younger, war god_.

She looked back up at the stars above her, glowing brightly against the dark dome of the night sky, and she remembered Lyceus and his fireflies...she smiled fondly, and let herself drift back to those memories of her childhood, a life that seemed bathed in perpetual sunshine. In reality, she knew that it hadn't been all fun and games back when she was young. But the passage of time had softened her memories, made them brighter and idyllic. And though there will always be that darkness lurking at the edges of her soul, she will always be able to treasure those sun-kissed memories.

And besides....

She'd told Ly that the fireflies would be back someday.

She looked across the campfire at her companions, at Gabrielle, whose very existence was a beacon of light for her. She thought of all those she had loved, and who had loved her in return despite the demons that plagued her. 

Maybe they never left. 

THE END


End file.
